


The After-After-Party

by Mackem



Category: Fake News RPF, The Daily Show
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by the prompt "cuddles" and their Emmys antics in 2007.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The After-After-Party

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompt "cuddles" and their Emmys antics in 2007.

The after-party was long gone. This was, as Stephen had remarked, the after-after-party, in all it's rumpled, lazy, bed-based glory.  
  
"You should'a won," Steve murmured, his tie long since stuffed in his pants pocket, bulging softly as he pressed close to Stephen. Stephen shook his head, hair disarrayed forcibly hours earlier by Jon's mischievous hands.  
  
"Bullshit," he replied affably. "Against Tony Bennet? Bull- _shit._ _You_ should've won."  
  
"He did," Jon smirked, his features slack with weariness. When was the last time he had been awake beyond midnight?  
  
"Only 'cause you decided I did," Steve chuckled, his voice soft. His voice always became gentle when tired; Jon became hoarse, while Stephen headed towards unintelligible. He seemed to have found a second wind, somehow, in the face of Steve and Jon's tiredness. Jon raised a finger as he nosed closer to Stephen's throat.  
  
"You won _unofficially_ ," he declared, his eyes heavy-lidded. The bed was soft, and Stephen's arm around his shoulders was too welcoming not to snuggle close. He tucked his head beneath Stephen's chin comfortably. "The masses declared it to be so."  
  
"That's exactly the opposite of what happened," Steve laughed, shifting to bury his face in Stephen's stomach. He had grown a gentle paunch over the years. It suited him. "You're crazy."  
  
"Not crazy, merely drunk," Jon claimed, as if this were any more respectable.   
  
Silence draped over the three men as they lay tangled together, warm and comfortable. Their shoes and jackets lay abandoned on the floor, the buttons on their pants released as an unspoken tribute to advancing age. Stephen was pretty sure Steve was asleep as he let his fingertips rove through the coarse hair at his neck, staring at nothing. Jon grunted, clear blue eyes masked behind tired eyelids.  
  
"W's fun," Jon mumbled, halfway between wakefulness and sleep. "'s lotsa fun, this year."  
  
"Told you," Stephen smiled softly, his lips pressing to Jon's thinning hair. "I told you it would be."  
  
"Didn't."  
  
"Whatever you want," Stephen grinned, running his thumb down Jon's nose, to his cheek, his jaw, and to his lips. He drew the slumbering man closer, closed his eyes, and smiled. Who needs awards?


End file.
